


Reeling

by Sarita1046



Series: Avenging Naboo [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Denial of Feelings, Egg Laying, F/M, Implied Mpreg, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Scissoring, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 10:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18163805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarita1046/pseuds/Sarita1046
Summary: Something that no one ever expected is lost.





	Reeling

**Author's Note:**

> Makes the most sense if parts 1-4 are read first.
> 
>  
> 
> Musical inspiration: "Oriye Oriye Madhu Chuwe" by Rajeev Mishra, Priyanka Singh

Padmé's nerves sang despite the small canister of cider she had stashed in her desk drawer. Still, dreams of Cordé's dead gaze haunted her dreams, even following Dormé's multiple reassurances that the senator had not caused the decoy's death.

”You are not responsible for everything horrible that happens, such a burden is too great for one person and will eventually drive you mad.” She had insisted.

Then, whose responsibility was it to protect and lead?

In truth, while Dormé, Sabé and Padmé had always striven to include Cordé in excursion preparation despite the latter's less impressive sense of coordination, Amidala couldn't help but wish she had taken more time to train with her now deceased friend - really, just spent more time with her in any capacity. After all, work as a non-decoy bodyguard would surely have made Cordé less of a target...

Lost in thought, Padmé started at a knock to the door. No buzz of the doorbell or page to her communicator - just a simple knock.

"Enter." She called.

Moments later, in strode fellow Naboo senator, Sheev Palpatine. Unassuming as his presence seemed on the surface, Padmé hardly felt inclined to stomach more attempts at political persuasion from the same man who had sought to control her decisions since her days as queen.

"Senator, please forgive the intrusion. I wanted to give my condolences for your friend."

Friend? Did he know about Cordé, then? Surely, not in the decoy-related capacity of her death.

"Thank you, Senator." Padmé settled on, not wanting to grace him with too long a hesitation. "What may I help you with?"

"I intended to visit not as another politician, but as a fellow Naboo." Palpatine clarified. "In times like these, we must keep our friends and alliances close and true. If there was any sense of merit in electing child rulers as we used to, it was in seeking the innocence and lack of desire for control. See that you stay true to the reason you were originally selected to lead our people, Senator."

Before Padmé could reply, the older senator had departed her office.

  


Several hours later, Padmé sat back in the window seat at her cottage, contemplating the watercolor landscape on the easel before her. After an entire afternoon of weapons training with Sabé failed to clear her mind of restless thoughts, art seemed to finally calm her nerves, if only just.

The greens and deep blues of the planet’s topography certainly reflected Naboo’s mild climate, the artwork offering a temporary distraction from the recent ruckus with the Jedi and Bardotta, Palpatine’s visit, Jar Jar’s continued fraternization with Julia, the Trade Federation...everything, really. It especially irked her that Jar Har Gad granted Palpatine emergency powers without even consulting her opinion. And yet...the lack of life depicted on the canvas wasn’t lost on her.

After all, what were the swamps and, indeed, the sloping grasslands - without their native inhabitants?

Thoughts drawn back to Jar Jar following their earlier encounter, Padmé ruefully acknowledged her tendency to avoid intimacy at all costs. Over a year of work and personal relations, and she hadn’t even asked the Gungan much about his family. Beyond him letting on once that his people were raised more by society at large than family, as such. Still, she barely knew the details of the events resulting in his banishment. 

Oh well, perhaps it was for the best. Too much involvement could lead to attachment, which could only end dismally for both. So she truly had no right to jealousy - and yet, there it was. That need for control that Anakin so often complained of Obi-Wan cautioning him over. Seemed Senator Amidala was little better. Well, damn Palpatine's judgments. She was only one person who had barely known a time before control became a bare necessity of everyday life. If she needed to exert a little control now and again to keep her life in order amidst a flood of chaos - so be it.

  


***

Jar Jar’s body was on fire.

Ever since Julia had bid him farewell, following her own satisfaction, his mind felt satiated and more than a little buzzed – and yet, he couldn’t shake the vicious heat that streamed over every centimeter of his skin. If anything, lying naked in Julia’s company and watching her take audible pleasure in their neural bond - all the while refraining from the physical intimacy he experienced with his Naboo human partner - had him even more frustrated. Try as he might, attempting to quell the urge with his own tongue had proven entirely futile.

He couldn’t contact Padmé…he couldn’t. They had a professional relationship, and he knew if he risked initiating contact, the chance of ruining their delicate situation loomed just as dark as the chance of rejection.

Those dark, intense, yet warm eyes. That small frame. Those lips. The way her face shone with determination like a ripple in the sunshine, when she stated a decree to the Senate. By the gods... 

He had seen a stronger version of that look tonight than ever before. There had been jealousy in the senator’s eyes…

Yet why should she care? She had Anakin now…

Jar Jar had just landed back on Naboo with several other junior representatives, when his communicator buzzed, text flashing in the light of the two moons overhead. 

Padmé: “Meet me at my cottage – follow the coordinates.”

Was she testing him then? Seeing if he would come when she called, even following his continued intimacy with the Queen of Bardotta?

Well, at least the Bardottan didn't seem to care in the least who knew about their dalliances. Still, while he admired Julia and fondly anticipated a future meeting with her, it seemed his race was still too primitive to subsist on mental connection alone.

The moment he went to knock at the door, it opened. No buzzer, just Padmé, as though she had been expecting him.

“Yesa, Senatah Padmé?” he asked, making an attempt at formality.

There was that look in her eyes again, smoldering black that reflected the moon, the silver light shining off the dark curls framing her face.

“Welcome back,” she stated, before reaching up, grasping him by the collar of his burgundy senatorial robe and pulling him inside.

“Misa always come back,” Jar Jar replied before letting her lead him down the hall to the small bedroom. 

“To Naboo?” Padmé probed, already pulling off her blue silk nightgown.

“To yousa service in da Senate.” Jar Jar said simply, shrugging out of his own robe. “Yousa da first to believe in misa.”

Padmé seemed to halt then, if only momentarily. The moment was fleeting, however, gaze soon returned to stone as she shoved him onto the bed.

“Maybe if you spent more time passing motion to avoid war and less on courting alien queens, we wouldn’t have so many off-world obligations.” Padmé hissed, climbing atop him.

Jar Jar tensed. They hadn’t yet discussed Padmé’s disapproval of his granting Chancellor Palpatine emergency powers.

”Yousa people also aliens long back.” He retorted, albeit softly.

“Perhaps it was my own short sight.” Padmé ignored his comeback, laying her cheek against Jar Jar’s abdomen as she stroked her fingertips over his opening. “I shouldn’t have entrusted another with my responsibility.” 

“Da council people all discussen at da Senate. Misa opinion also important. Queen Julia always listenen to misa ideas, except when tellen misa not to usen tongue--“ Jar Jar’s sentence trailed off, as two firm fingers entered him.

How had she known this was again the time for eggs?

“Stop talking.” She demanded in that voice that managed to be soft, husky and stern all at once.

Hips bucking in a fashion that had the Gungan relieved it was likely too dark for a Naboo to see well, Jar Jar was quickly losing the ability for rational thought. Acting on instinct, he grabbed Padmé by her bare thighs and placed her so she straddled his waist. 

Though both nearly whimpered at the loss of her inside him, Padmé moaned audibly as her opening lined up with his.

Now entangled together in a proper heap, Naboo human and Gungan began gyrating shamelessly in the pale moonlight streaming through the open window. 

With the fraction of consciousness he had that wasn’t lost to blinding pleasure, Jar Jar tenderly swiped his tongue across her breasts, recalling that the nipples at the tips always seemed to harden at times like this.

That was when Padmé gasped, digging her fingers even harder into his chest, and began riding him full force, a maneuver which activated that same sensation he had experienced several times, the first being their initial encounter on the river.

His body exploding in ecstatic muscle spasms, Jar Jar gripped the senator by her shoulders as his insides screamed to keep a part of her for himself. Within mere moments, his entrance expanded to engulf her entire sex.

“What…what is that?” Padmé stammered, though her hips hadn’t ceased their motion. “The feeling…it’s, it’s tingling…ahh.”

Palming over her lower belly, Padmé’s pants and sighs soon crescendoed into a powerful climax, as Gungan milked human in an unprecedented interspecies interaction.

Assuming she had been referring to his opening stimulating that nub of hers usually reserved for his tongue, Jar Jar collapsed onto his back. Just before falling asleep, he registered Senator Padmé moving up to gently curl at his side.

He fell asleep to the feel of her soft locks threading through his fingers.

 

The following dawn light woke Jar Jar in time to gently extract himself from Padmé’s embrace and dutifully leave the senator’s cottage before she could wake up and likely tell him off herself. May as well get back to the swamp of his own accord.

Once at the water, he spent what must have been several hours floating along the river, watching the sunrise. How peaceful this place was. No Naboo to scold him for doing something wrong, and not even any fellow Gungans suddenly bestowing him with empty flattery following his appointment to the Senate. Just serenity…

Jar Jar’s languid reverie shattered to a sharp pain in his abdomen. Sitting straight up on the water’s surface, he soon doubled over at the ensuing contractions in his pelvic region. 

It felt as if his body were trying to expel something. Not waste surely, this felt different - from deeper within.

Splashing some water on his face to try and distract himself from the wriggling and occasionally shooting pain, Jar Jar gasped as he felt something escape from between his legs.

The pain all but subsided, the Gungan sidled his way over to the shore and returned the short distance back to where he had left his senatorial robe on the riverbank by the foot of one of the hills up to the grasslands. 

Gingerly sitting atop the robe, Jar Jar looked around to make sure no one was in sight before removing his slacks. Once off, he held his breath as he felt around inside the fabric, carefully retrieving what had fallen out inside the pants.

There in his palm, barely the size of his fingertip, lay a roughly spherical, dark red spongy substance with black streaks running through it. 

His body’s attempted use and rejection of Padmé’s egg. Of course. How could she ever feel for Jar Jar the way she surely felt for Anakin? Or any of her own species?

Jar Jar’s yellow gaze fixed the little object, simultaneously mesmerized, stricken and horrified.

Although their species had fallen into contact across the stars and over many years - as a Gungan, he would only fail her desire for children.

 

The begetting of that lost egg and its release to the riverbed had proven the first source of grief for Jar Jar that day. The second came when he ventured to tell Padmé what had transpired.

“Jar Jar,” she had looked him dead in the eye, as they spoke at her cottage entryway later that afternoon. “What do you mean an egg? You don’t lay eggs, the female Gungans do, right?”

“No, Senatah,” Jar Jar insisted, “females given us their eggs to lay later.”

Comprehension dawned in Padmé’s eyes, as her face blanched. “You took an egg from me. That’s the pulling sensation I felt…”

“Misa didn’t mean to.” Jar Jar felt like screaming. “Please, Senatah Padmé.”

Padmé visibly bit her lower lip to the point where it looked like it could have drawn blood.

“I’m sorry, Jar Jar. But can you please head home? I just need to be alone.”

Jar Jar stepped forward then to touch her cheek, and she shoved away his hand.

“Please, Jar Jar. I respect you, I really do. But this has gone too far. We can’t do this anymore.”

With that, she stepped back inside and hastily shut the door, leaving the Gungan to head back to the swamp.


End file.
